


Thanksgiving Weekend

by Shiggityshwa



Series: Stargate Drabbles [13]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cam pov, Drabble, Gen, one word prompt, single word prompt, stargatedrabbles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiggityshwa/pseuds/Shiggityshwa
Summary: "Is this the one with the egg-laying rodent?"





	Thanksgiving Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'holiday' over at StargateDrabbles on Tumblr.

He couldn’t leave her. Sure, there would be a skeleton crew working through the holidays, and maybe he was just in such a good mood that it wasn’t him who had to stay and babysit the lower-level privates—and the staff in the onsite living quarters— over Thanksgiving weekend. Jackson and Teal’c left for London for a mini-vacation under the disguise of visiting the Beta site, and Sam, who wouldn’t disclose her plans, left that morning, after a short goodbye.

But when he tried to sneak out of his office, glancing both directions down the halls, and then, under the shield of a hunched shoulder, locked the door, she magically appeared behind him. Pigtails bouncing, bright grin, expecting him to be staying on base as well, and listing out all the activities she had planned, stopping short when she saw his packed duffel bag.

“You’re leaving.”

“Yeah—” Didn’t want to tell her about his folks and the giant dinner they throw for the sake of his brother’s kids.

Expected her to invite herself along, to use pity and ham it up to make him feel so guilty he had to invite her—only she didn’t. She grinned and it seemed genuine and he didn’t know what to make of it. She patted his arm and there was nothing scheming or sexual about it.

“Have fun, break a wishing bone for me.” And she turned away first. She had the gall to turn away first. He thought he was off the hook until she added, “Oh and give your mother my best.”

And she just kept walking. She just kept—

“Vala.” Yelled in the tone he usually reserves for when she’s running her mouth or showing off. She flinched to a stop, turning with a forced smile. “Just go get your damn coat.”

That’s how they end up on a plane to Kansas again, colder weather this time. He lets her have the window seat to watch the storm cloud swells, and she’s bouncing again.

“Is this the one with the egg-laying rodent?”

“No.”

“The one sharing the gratitude of slaughter?”

“Maybe?”

She must check his tone because the twenty questions stop and he tucks his chin against his chest, relaxing in the chair intent on catching thirty minutes of shut eye. Then he feels the first poke. Then the second. When he cracks his eye she’s all grins, fingers plucking at the wrinkles in his leather jacket.

“Will there be pie?”

 


End file.
